Was it a car or a cat I saw
It must be a cat it has a paw
But can a cat go beep-beep?
Maybe it's just a cat jeep...
Nah, it's just a cheap jeep with a flaw
Jeepers creepers, evening peepers
It's their job like one's life keepers
Finding flaws on others' scar
Like perfect people, all they are
Guarding in the light of day
Sour graping in every way
Like it's their own business to mind
Fault in others, they try to find
I don't know how much they're paid
Maybe it's too far in grade
Or they're just puppets in a play
Barking out without a pay
*For those bigots who guard me 24/7 like I'm some kind of Extra Terrestrial being. They even illegally watch over my phone and my home.*
Black helicopters
thrum overhead menacingly
a conspiracy theory spies
on overheard words.
Digital drones plot and bot.
Light sleepers might feel paranoid
except they are peepers
they peer into the dark hearts
that hover unseen
We blame Putin
or Global warming.
We don't tell, or show our face
there are eyes in every place,
trolls patrol
and blood is thick today,
a sentence in a solitary place.
Just another day in the U.S of A
justice deferred
a theater of the absurd
but even so
watch out for the killer clowns
they most certainly abound.
Jeepers creepers can’t believe your peepers
Sweepers keepers jumping josey leapers.
Gleepers fleepers dallying with sneepers.
Reapers heapers willful wonder kneepers
Sleepers greepers foremost firstly weepers
Deepers sheepers giving golden fleepers
Cheepers zeepers living with grim reapers
Jeepers creepers can’t believe your peepers
(concentrating....inner voice; 'metaphors be with you')
someone once said: mathematics is exploration
definitions come later
so...
hold a universe in your hand
and...
see the cosmos in a flower
the...
memories of eternity each will last an hour
(er!?….something like that)
stan sand
Late sleepers like me know the hush
Of midnight - still - without our rush
And the moon flush against the sky
Like a lone lighthouse on standby.
I hear the whispering leaves rustle
Quiet laughter at humans who bustle
About at day like little toys at play
Who are tucked away at end of day.
Late sleepers like me hear the sighs
When the dream flickers and then dies
In the silence, the rhythm beats
While the moon’s flush and leaves rustle.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.